The Line
by MessyJess
Summary: My first fan fic...what I hope is a humorous encounter through Booth's eyes, with potential for a follow-up story later. Not totally sure about the ratings system so I gave it an M for some language and references. Thanks to you all for the reviews!


THE LINE

Good dream. She was doing sinful things to him. He didn't want to wake up, but felt the pull of morning and his body's natural rhythm could not be denied. Oh well, maybe he'll get to have another dream of her tomorrow night, possibly with a little more follow-through. He wondered if the A/C had broken in the night, but then why would only his front half be hot and the rest comfortable? And then he realized why.

Somehow, during the night, they had ooched together. He was laying along the back of her, spooning her warm body. It was warm and the places clothing didn't cover their skin seemed suctioned together. He was afraid to move, he didn't want to peel away just yet. Her breathing was so even, he tried to match his breaths to hers. She shifted mere inches in her sleep, and suddenly he was very aware of his massive erection piercing her rear end. If there is a God, he will not let her wake up. He was now going to have to try and extricate himself without waking her up and avoid a very awkward situation.

She stretched and let out a sigh. Oh shit, she was waking up. He rolled away from her, but didn't realize where the bed ended and wound up flat ass on the floor with a boner that wouldn't quit. She sat straight up at the sound of him thumping to the floor.

"Booth?" She only had her eyes halfway open and her hair was a mess of tangles. She had never looked better.

"Yeah, sorry about that Bones. I misjudged the bed size I guess." He chuckled praying she didn't open her eyes all the way up and look down.

"That's okay. What time is it?" He leaned up to look at the clock on the bedside table. When he leaned up, she must have looked down, because by the time he had turned her head to tell her the time, her eyes were glued on his crotch.

"Uh, it's six forty five. I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He tried to spring up and head for the bathroom before she could get a word out. He made it just in time to hear her take a breath, but he had the door shut before she could form any words.

When he came back out she was sitting in the exact same spot he had left her. Only now her eyes were totally open and focused directly on him.

"You better get moving Bones. We want to make this our last day in Iowa, right? The faster we get this case done the sooner we can go home and not be forced to share a room anymore."

"Booth, you know that I understand the whole concept of the penis, right?" He couldn't have been more shocked than if she'd told him she actually had a penis and could empathize with morning wood.

"Huh?"

"I'm saying that I understand the fact that your arousal was just a natural biological process, and had nothing to do with me. There was no need for you to be embarrassed like that."

"Bones, I'd really rather not talk about my natural biological processes at this hour of the morning, thanks." This was insane. He just got rid of a hard-on, he didn't need her to start talking about his dick. If she wanted to touch it, however, he would definitely oblige her. _Seeley, don't think like that, you'll get hard again. Focus on something else, anything else. Go find a pair of socks for Christ's sake._

"Well, I just don't understand your embarrassment. I'm not saying you should parade around swinging it about, but you don't have to run in the bathroom and slam the door. Physiological processes are nothing to be ashamed about. You know women wake up more prone to arousal as well. That's why many women are so enamored with sex in the morning. It's our internal clocks telling us to mate." Oh God, was she a woman prone to arousal? Right now? And now he was rising again. He was sure as hell prone to arousal, the proof was arising right now in his pants. He wanted to explore this further.

"Are you one of those women? The morning sex and arousal prone types, I mean?" _Oh God, please let her say yes. Let her not roundhouse kick me to the face._

"Well, there are two ways I can answer that question. I can tell you about it, or you could come over here and I could show you first hand." He knew he'd been going to mass for all these years for a good reason. He had just heard proof that God existed, and was, in this instance, granting him permission to have massive amounts of sex with his partner, followed by massive amounts of time in the confessional. He practically sprinted across the room to her on the bed.

And that's usually about the time he wakes up. Mother fucking cock balls goddamn shit. It was Sunday morning, he was in bed alone, and there was no hot doctor there to give him a lecture on morning wood. He said a few Hail Marys before he got out of bed, just to hedge his bets. Then he groaned out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. By the time he came out he was jerked off, showered, and looking forward to the fact that he got to have dinner at Bones' house tonight. The day just had a rocky start, but hopefully the finish would be better.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

It would take a pretty big coincidence, or a massive setup, to get two reluctant adults into bed together. What makes it even harder to get them there is the fact that they know each other. They know each other in ways that most people don't. There are strings attached, lines not to cross, and experiences that intensify emotions.

It might seem to some that saying you would die for someone is melodramatic, and they wouldn't be wrong. All of the angles have to be just right. You can't just blurt out, "I would die for you!" That would be lame, and seem completely irrational. You have to be calm, cool, collected; fully aware of what dying means and not seem like a nut job that would probably die for a snickers bar if pressed. All those movies that have love scenes with a murmured, "I love you" and screaming declarations of eternal fidelity are stupid. I'm not just saying that because I'm a guy, but because no intelligent woman could possibly take that seriously. I wouldn't if I were a woman. Neither would she.

I enjoy my accidental snuggling and consequent talking and sex fantasy. It seems plausible. If it happened that way then I would know that she wanted this as much as I do. I'm a good looking man, I know she's noticed because she's told me that I'm a well-structured male who looks like a good breeder. For her, that's practically a come-on. Right? And have you read her books? She's totally molding that partner character to be more and more like me, and those fictional creations are getting it on more than I have with my last three girlfriends…combined!

Oh Jesus, she's bending over again. That reminds me of this other fantasy I have. It involves the word "fuck." As in her screaming that word over and over as I do very un-Catholic things between her legs with my hands, my mouth, and my cock, which is now twitching in my slacks. Why the hell did I say I'd come over for dinner with a side of torturous blue balls? I still have some stupid teenage hope that I'll actually be able to accidentally trip and fall on her bed with her underneath me, our clothes will magically fall off, and then she'll be really into the whole writhing our bodies together until we both climax. If it weren't completely sinful to pray for sex, I would ask God every night to have sex with Temperance Brennan.

Even as I'm fantasizing privately to myself while she rummages in the kitchen for something or other, there's a voice in my head that tells me to stop. This voice keeps chanting about the lines not to cross. The god damn mother fucking lines that I can't cross because I am a professional crime stopper. I stop crime. That's what I do. With my partner I stop crime. My partner and I cannot stop crime together and then go home to have hot sex. I cannot stop crime while fantasizing about my partner putting her mouth on several different parts of my body. So tonight, I will eat my mac and cheese and then go home. There will be no accidental tripping onto that bed, no writhing, no climax. Damn it.

I console myself with the knowledge that when I retire, it's a whole new ballgame. We won't be partners anymore and then I can totally make my move. That's only twenty-five or thirty years away. Crap. There's also a whole planet-full of women that I don't stop crime with. Sure they're not as exciting, or that incredible combination of smart and not-so-smart, and they don't look fantastic dressed like Wonder Woman, and they probably don't have the same relentless dedication to justice, but what the hell? Surely some woman out there can smile at me and call me by my last name and roll their eyes at me. Surely someone can cause a riot of anger, fear, lust, and affection inside my gut all at the same time. Happens every day. In fact, I'll probably meet her tomorrow. She'll walk up to me outside the Hoover building and say, "Hey Booth, let's get it on." Unfortunately, the only woman I can actually picture in my head doing that looks disturbingly like the one in the kitchen, and she has the same voice too.

"Why are you smiling, Booth?" Woops. She's caught me daydreaming.

"Nothing. Just thinking about Parker's soccer game the other day." I'm a terrible father.

"Oh! Did he do well? Did his team win?" I love that she actually cares, but I'm still a terrible father. I use my child as a cover for thinking about sex. I need to go to confession.

"They won. But only because the other team had slightly more trouble kicking the ball forward than they did. At one point there was a time out to discuss which goal was the one to aim at. I'm glad I just have to coach the tee-ball team." I made her laugh. That's right, Seeley Booth, funny guy _and_ crime stopper. Eat that, Batman. "You should come to his next game. I'm sure you'll find something anthropologically significant in the experience."

"You know, not everything I do has to be related to my work, Booth. I invited you over for dinner for no reason related to our work." Her head was cocked to one side. She wasn't offended, but I could tell she wanted to play. She wants me to start verbally sparring with her. I'm down, let's go lady.

"Actually, I'm fairly certain you invited me over because Sweets suggested we spend time together outside of work and you're tired of bowling. Either that, or you're trying to finagle me into your bedroom." Crap. Ignore that last sentence. I was doing so well until the last sentence. Maybe she didn't hear it. Nope, she heard it. And now she's looking at me. This could be awkward.

"Hmm. Well, I've always enjoyed bowling with you, Booth." She's smirking. Okay what did I say? Then she said the bowling thing. Which means she's not tired of it. Which means…what does that mean. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Does she want to get me into bed? What do I say now? She's still smirking at me. Oh God, what does my face look like?! Too much thinking, just say something!

"Bones, if you want to get me into bed, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to butter me up with food." Jesus Christ! Don't say that! Keep your face under control and shut your goddamn mouth. Smirk right back, that's it. Keep it light. Don't let her see that you now have a raging hard-on.

"All right." She's standing up. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. "Let's go Booth. Bed. You and me. Right now." That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me, but if I stand up, and she sees my erection, and I find out she's just fucking with me….that would not be good.

"Bones, are you serious? Are you just fucking with me, here?" Please say no, please say no.

"I'm not fucking with you Booth. I've been thinking about this for a while. And I know you've been thinking about it too." How does she know?

"How do you know I've been thinking about it?"

"I can see it in your face. I know you weren't thinking about Parker's soccer game. Just like the dozens of other times you've tried to cover it up over the past few months. Also, you touch me constantly, and when we go out of town for work I can practically see the wheels turning in your head, wondering how we can end up in the same hotel room. You wanna know why I know all that?" Ummm, yah.

"Yes."

"Because I've been thinking about it too. It's only natural Booth. We're both good-looking people who have a really strong connection to each other. I like you, you like me. It would be miraculous if our feelings and curiosities didn't start to run in that direction, especially after that kiss, then my dad's trial, and then you died, but not really, and then Zack. We leaned on each other through all of that, that's bound to stir up some kind of response." Wow, she's given this a lot of thought. Totally logicked the whole thing out. Typical Bones.

"You've been thinking about this a lot. I'm starting to think you've been thinking about this more than I have. How the hell did you keep so even-keeled? I was so nervous someone would notice I felt a little shaky sometimes. And should we discuss how bad this direction would be on our work?" Oh good, she sat back down. I was beginning to feel like a kid in a classroom.

"Booth, look at us. You and me, we're not like other people. What we have together is almost unbelievable. You represent a lot in my life: you're my partner, my friend, my family, my hero." She called me her hero. That is definitely the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me. Jesus, these pants are getting really tight. "I'm not worried about sex changing any of those things. We're Booth and Brennan. We're not going to suddenly become idiots that can't think for ourselves. We're never going to be able to boss each other around, we're not going to ask the other to change. We're strong. We're the center. You told me that." Okay. Now that he was all logicked up too, it was time to do this thing. This was going to work. It was going to be totally fine, and that little line could just go take a flying leap. It was sexy time. With Bones. Oh, yeah.

"All right." Now I get to stand up first. "Let's go Bones. Bed. You and me. Right now." She's standing face to face with me. Well more like forehead to chin with me, but still. I'm going to kiss her. Oh wow, this is good. She's slick and soft and tastes like everything that ever tasted good in my life before. Every ice cream flavor, every cookie, every bit of mac and cheese, she has that one line of perfection that they all share encompassed in her mouth. This is a good kiss. There's her tongue. This is a great kiss. When did my hands get to her butt? She's so firm. She just moaned. Oh God…thank you.


End file.
